


A Grievous Infraction

by Alyaludi



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, Pilot 479er (mentioned), Secret Plots, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5680990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyaludi/pseuds/Alyaludi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Washington's plan to hide secret material where no one would think to look for it backfires, forcing him to bargain for the help of the one person who can find out what happened--Agent Connecticut. Fortunately, she has a vested interest in the fate of the contraband, as she helped him acquire it in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Grievous Infraction

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during PFL before everything went to shit.

“Gone?” Agent Washington demanded. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?” 

“I’m sorry, sir!” The crewman squeaked. Of all the Freelancers, Agent Washington was usually the least intimidating, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t downright scary when he choose to be. Just better at playing normal than Agent Florida. “If it’s not in the official manifests its movement wasn’t documented, and I can’t confirm who may or may not have accessed that storage location…” 

“Who has access to this area? Get me records for the last four months.” Had Agent Washington always known how to loom? Didn’t Agent Maine have that copyrighted? 

“Sir, this is an open area, general staff have access.” Not that the crewman meant Agent Washington was an idiot for storing whatever top-secret material in a public access storage location onboard. That would be provoking and borderline suicidal. “No records--” 

“Fine.” Wash looked grim, turning away from the man. “I’ll find out on my own. And I will find out; if you--” 

“I swear sir I never touched it!” The crewman held up his datapad like a shield, if a purely psychological one. 

“We’ll see.” Washington whirled and stalked down the corridor, door whooshing shut behind him. Damn, you forgot just how terrifying those guys can be when you just saw them goofing off in their spare time… 

***

“Connie, I need you to get me access to ship’s monitoring logs for Storage Area Foxtrot-Golf.” 

“Information’s not free Wash, and why do you want to spy on the free-access lockers?” Connie peered up at him over the back of the couch she was lounging on. “If something’s missing York took it, you know.” 

“No, York didn’t know anything was there.” Wash glanced around the lounge, as though he expected someone to have come in while he was talking. “That’s why I was using Foxtrot-Golf instead of a personal locker. Everyone knows he goes through those when he can’t sleep.” 

“True. Still a risky location. What--?” 

“The package from the Equitar rendezvous. The one--” 

Connie’s eyes widened and she sat up. “You stored that in a public-access area? Wash, even crew go in there, all the time! It’s gone, Wash. All that trouble and you lost it.” 

“Anywhere else and I’d risk someone finding it!” 

“Well apparently someone did find it!” Connie rocked to her feet, eyes narrowed. “Just because no one would look there doesn’t mean no one would see.” Honestly, she thought, it’s no wonder York does infiltration; Wash has no sense of subterfuge. “It wasn’t supposed to be on board either, so even if you do find out who took it, there’s nothing--” 

“Just because I can’t get the thief disciplined doesn’t mean I can’t take action.” He looked downright grim. 

“Revenge won’t get it back.” 

“No,” his voice took on a disturbing cheerfulness. “But I can make the thief’s life hell until they replace it.” 

“Wash, you’re already lucky whoever it is decided to keep it, rather than telling--” 

“C’mon, Connie, you of all people know what people would do for that.” 

“Yeah, and what they have to do.” She sighed, and fished a shirt out from between the couch cushions (it’s long but not too baggy, probably North’s). 

“Depending on who they are, they probably won’t be able to procure a replacement.” 

“What makes you think I care? They can sell their soul to you, if they have to.” 

“Fair. Okay, let’s look at the security records.” She pulled the shirt on over her head as she opened the door, earning them a look from a passing crewmember. “And just because I helped you get it the first time does not mean I’m helping you get it back for free, after you lost it like an idiot.” 

“What do you want?” Wash followed her down the hall. 

“We’ll discuss compensation for my skills later.” She shushed him until they get to the classroom-- does she use the computers in here? Washington wondered. Wouldn’t that be risky? “Now, did you want me to find the intruder, or just get you access to the tapes?” 

“It’d be more to find them, right?” 

“‘Bout double. Probably. Depends on how many hours of footage I have to go through.” She held the door open, waiting for him to decide. 

“How about we both work on it-- if we find it soon enough…” 

“I still don’t think there’ll be anything left to salvage, buddy.” She went into the classroom, lights coming on as she entered, and he followed. “But yeah, we’ll try.” 

***

It was three days later, after Wash had just finished training, that Connie came up to him. Her face said no good news. 

She glanced around. He shook his head; not here. She nodded, then jerked her head towards the showers. Going to the end of the room, they turned on the water loud enough to drown out any casual eavesdropper. 

“You found something?” His voice was low, so as not to take risks. 

“Wash, it’s… I didn’t expect this.” She looked apologetic, almost. Definitely not good news. 

“Who?” 

“You may be better off not knowing.” 

“Connie. I need to know. I can’t trust someone who would just take it!” 

“But what if you need to?” 

“Is it Maine?” Wash looked horrified. “It can’t be, Connie, he wouldn’t--” 

“No! But there’s no way you can get it back, no use to finding out, you can’t blackmail her--” 

“Carolina?” Sad, this time. South he could’ve blackmailed with certain information regarding substances that would make her brother put on his Disapproving Face if he knew about them. 

“No, Wash. It’s no one from our team.” 

“But it’s someone we need to trust. Wyoming? We don’t need to trust him, just accept the intel--” 

“No, Wash.” Connie sighed. “I’m serious, Wash… It would be better…” 

“Not knowing is worse, Connie, you’re just dragging it out. Come on. Tell me.” 

“479er. It was 479er.” 

Wash stared. “No.” 

“Wash, you can’t-- she’s our pilot, we need her. You know she has our backs.” 

“As the team, on the field, but apparently at home--” his voice got louder. 

“Wash--” 

“What can I do? If it’s 479er…” 

“Well, look at it this way, maybe she can replace it? She has… connections. She can get things past inspection…” 

“How do you know that?” Wash asked sharply. 

“How many ‘personal items’ do you think we’re allowed to have?” Connie raised an eyebrow. 

Wash groaned. “But… Dunk-a-Roos? Even 479er has limits. And why would she be willing to steal the box, if she could get her own?” 

“Wash, maybe she didn’t. All we know is that she moved it. You could ask her first, find out… Maybe some of it’s still there…” 

“Maybe. And maybe she ate all the frosting and left the cookies. Someone who steals other peoples’ secret supplies might do that.” Wash looked grim. That would have been almost a worse insult than having his precious stash treated like common snack food. 

“You can’t just go accusing our pilot of being a petty thief, Wash.” She put a hand on his arm. “You know how much she means to the team.” 

“Petty?” He shrugged off her hand. “Connie, you know how hard--” 

“Fine, fine. Thief mastermind.” Connie threw up her hands. “Maybe you should take lessons, replace York. But Wash, if it were someone on the team even I’d be all for some righteous vengeance. If…” 

“I know,” Wash sighed. “I’ll just have to… see if she’s willing to make amends. Just an apology, I could respect, even if she can’t replace it… We have to have each other’s backs out here, not steal each others’ snacks.” 

“Poetic.” She snorted. “And don’t forget-- you owe me fifteen backrubs, ten minutes each, whenever I ask.” 

“Just don’t tell South or York,” Wash appealed. “I’d never get any peace, and I already have enough trouble convincing York to wear shirts, even outside the lounge.” 

“I don’t see why you want him to, you fun-ruiner.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have never seen Dunk-a-Roos. I don't even know if they sell them in America. Those are Py's fault!


End file.
